


Happy Little Pistol

by schim



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: M/M, Public Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 14:37:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1986663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schim/pseuds/schim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Izumi's reputation was no secret. Sometimes he'd smile when whispers would come back around to him. Yes, he <i>did</i> that and he'd do it again. Most of his team, the ones who didn't tap into their own curiosity, ignored it, even if they caught bits of quiet gossip. </p>
<p>Today it started out as a joke, a dare even.</p>
<p>And it was Hamada of all people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Little Pistol

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be a multi-chaptered fic that I planned months and months ago. It was going to focus on a more darker interpretation of Izumi, very broken and lost sort of thing. But I lost interest after a while. The blowjob scene itself was typed up for over half a year before I figured I'd finish it and wrap it up for people.
> 
> Fic Songs:   
> Happy - Mother Mother -http://youtu.be/0_YyocoUhPM  
> Little Pistol - Mother Mother - http://youtu.be/H6f9Wc1yFsQ

Most of them breathed the same way, anxious and impatient. The sound of their restless heartbeats rode on each unsteady breath. Sometimes they licked their lips, sometimes they bit them. Every single one of them wore their thoughts on their face, as clear as a child's picture book. Each expression was so simple, so easy to read. 

It was pathetic.

Izumi never closed his eyes, even though there was was nothing to see. 

He liked the way most of them couldn't meet his eyes. The way they looked away like he was stranger in passing.

Even when their dicks rammed the back of his throat. 

Izumi's reputation was no secret. Sometimes he'd smile when whispers would come back around to him. Yes, he _did_ that and he'd do it again. Most of his team, the ones who didn't tap into their own curiosity, ignored it, even if they caught bits of quiet gossip. 

Today it started out as a joke, a dare even.

And it was Hamada of all people. 

Izumi expected to be turned down. His answer didn't come until later, when they were the last ones in the classroom after cleanup duty. Red stained Hamada's cheeks as he struggled to not trip over his words. He stuttered like speaking was a new, foreign thing his mouth had never experienced. Izumi rolled his eyes and shoved him into a chair. 

Once Izumi's knees hit the floor, he heard it.

Hamada's breathing.

It was different. 

It was delicate. Soft. As if a thousand tiny wings fluttered inside him. The red stayed deep on Hamada's face as Izumi unbuckled his belt. Izumi pushed up his shirt and Hamada's lower stomach muscles tightened like he was preparing to get hit. He was probably a little ticklish and Izumi tested the theory as he ran a finger down the trail of hair that disappeared into his underwear. 

A shiver started in Hamada's belly and ended in his dick. 

Izumi's smirk was cold. 

Teasing them was always fun. Izumi tugged his pants down but left Hamada's cock trapped in his underwear. Boxer briefs. He seemed like that kind of guy. How predictable. The tip of Hamada's cock peeked out of the blue trim of his underwear and it wasn't even completely hard. It was the sort that was easy to choke on, but Izumi was no amateur.

And he accepted the challenge as he pulled it free.

_Oh._

Cut dick, what a delicacy. 

It wasn't Izumi's first, but it was far from a common sight, like a pink tipped rose growing among weeds. Disgusting. He should have been the nastiest weed of the garden. 

The sounds that poured from Hamada's lips were just as soft as his breathing. Gentle whimpering that grew sharper when Izumi wrapped his fingers around Hamada's cock. It only took a minute or two of inspection before his eyes went up to watch Hamada's reaction to his tongue touching the tip of his cock. 

“S-shit,” Hamada sucked in a breath as his legs spread. 

Izumi had to put his free hand on Hamada's thigh to keep him steady. “It's almost like you've never been blown before.” His tone dripped with mocking disinterest. 

Hamada just grunted and Izumi took the tip in with a smile at the corner of his lips. Before he planned on taking him in anymore, he traced along the faint scar beneath his cockhead. A dick was a dick, but the cut ones were almost like something all their own. It almost made Hamada exotic. 

Him, of all people, _exotic_. If there wasn't a throbbing cock in his mouth, Izumi would have laughed. 

Hamada's shoe squeaked against the floor as he fidgeted, hands hovering as if he was afraid of scaring Izumi off; as if the wrong move would have Izumi gone to leave his dick wet and cold in the open air. Izumi would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it, but he wasn't one to leave a job half finished. 

Izumi took him in full and Hamada's dick touched the back of his throat with experienced ease. A soft whimper, almost like a pathetic compliment, poured from Hamada's dry lips. 

Hamada was a big guy. He was big in more ways than one, and with the snug way his cock pulsated between Izumi's lips, he could leave with bragging rights. As Izumi started to bob, his tongue tip caressing the underside of Hamada's cock, he wondered how many people had seen it. Shared showers when it was soft and dripping with soap didn't count. 

How many people had seen it hard and full?

The way Hamada watched him with hints of disbelief swimming in a hazy stupor, the answer was pretty clear.

_No one._

Izumi was the first to discover what some would call a treasure. He could feel it in the way Hamada bucked eager hips, how his hands went from the chair to his shirt and back again, how Hamada looked down at him like Izumi had complete control. In that moment he might as well have owned Hamada. He might as well have been his master, rewarding him with something he didn't deserve. 

A jolt to his own dick caught Izumi off guard and he sputtered off Hamada's cock with a hard cough. 

Hamada blinked, his mouth hanging open like he forgot how to speak again. He could have hit Izumi with something snarky and get revenge for his earlier comment. But he didn't. The look on his face almost seemed concerned and Izumi glared at him, sure to let him see his displeasure before he was back on his cock. 

All the way back in.

“F-- How the,” Hamada gasped and his hands fell into Izumi's hair as if he was afraid of falling out of his chair and Izumi was his only anchor. 

Even though his hands were in Izumi's hair, Hamada didn't shove down. He tugged a little, but it was gentle. Izumi rolled his eyes, it was just like that idiot. A big guy with a gentle touch, it was so stupid that Izumi could have gagged, but that's what the cock in his mouth was for. When Hamada's fingers started to stroke through his hair, Izumi warned him with a press of his teeth.

“Ah!” Hamada's hips thrust of their own accord and he gasped with a jolt of a shudder. “F-- whoa. Sh-shit.” 

It wasn't the reaction Izumi was looking for. 

“You liked that?” Izumi regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

“Yeah, heh.” 

The little grin on Hamada's blush stained face filled Izumi with the urge to slap him right on the dick. 

Instead he pressed parted lips to Hamada's wet, glistening cockhead. The idiot probably would have liked that too much. 

“Do you want to come on my face?” Izumi asked with a tone as casual as if he was simply talking about the weather. 

“Wouldn't that be pretty messy?” 

Izumi tightened his grip on Hamada's cock and Hamada jerked with a soft whine. 

“So you'd rather come in my mouth? Bury your dick balls deep. Fill me up?”

The red on Hamada's face darkened. “I was just thinking it'd be a little easier. M-Maybe. I don't know. Would it?”

“How _fucking_ considerate of you. What a gentleman. I'm surprised the girls aren't all over this dick.” Izumi rolled his eyes again before bowing back down. 

Hamada gasped when Izumi's lips were back on his dick. Izumi's fingers dipped down to caress his balls. There they curled with fluid, graceful motions. He wouldn't last much longer after that. Then it would all be over. 

And Hamada would be just another one time thrill.

Still, Hamada's hands hadn't left Izumi's hair. They settled there with the thumbs gently petting. Izumi gave him teeth again, dragging them up the length of his cock. 

“A-Ah--,” Hamada's face tightened and his voice went soft. “Izumi--, …ah. You, ah. You're... so good at this...”

The prepared venom in Izumi's throat was held back by an odd warmth in his cheeks. Something about the way Hamada said it, warm and lazy, made Izumi's dick start to ache. It didn't feel the way it should. Of course he'd get hard himself when he blew them, he liked sucking dick, he loved it.

But it was never like that.

Never did Izumi find his other hand palming between his own legs. 

Sucking dick made him feel like something else, something powerful.

Now it was slipping away into something else. 

Izumi had to end it.

There was a word Izumi wanted to use to describe Hamada's face when he finally came, bent over and whining Izumi's name. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't put his finger on which word exactly. Thinking too much about it made him feel a little dizzy. 

Izumi didn't blink as Hamada emptied into his mouth. 

His breathing was different then too. 

Hamada draped back, his body soft and spent. His breath was heavy like his mind was lost and confused in the feeling of it. Izumi smiled as he popped Hamada's dick out of his mouth with an exaggerated smack of his lips. 

He had that effect on people. 

They didn't say anything after that. Izumi rose to a stand, brushed himself off and left. He didn't want to be there when Hamada recovered and give him a chance at some weird conversation. Hamada seemed like the type to try to repay favors. 

He was pathetic like that.

But it wasn't until the next day after practice that he really saw how pathetic he was. It was dusk, hot and humid, when Hamada came running up along beside him. Izumi didn't want to look at him, he'd avoided it since the day before. 

“H-Hey,” Hamada stammered out as he tried to keep up with Izumi, who quickened his pace. 

“What.” 

“I was wondering, if ah,--”

Izumi stopped, turned, looked him straight in his eye. Hamada's face went red and Izumi narrowed his eyes, trying to make them colder. 

“ _Wondering if I 'd suck your cock again?_ ” It was almost laughable, but Izumi didn't laugh. Instead it made him feel a little sick. “Just because I sucked it once doesn't make it a habit.”

“No.” Hamada shook his head, fists clenched at his sides like he was building up courage for something.

“No? Then what?” Izumi folded his arms, ready for whatever rich nonsense he was about to spout. 

“I was wondering if ah, you'd like to go get snocones or something. Because it's hot and.”

“You're repaying me with a snocone.” Izumi rolled his eyes and looked away at the direction he had been heading before. He wanted to leave but his legs wouldn't listen.

“N-Not repaying!” Hamada's voice sounded desperate. “No, just-- I wanted to spend some time with you. It'd be more like a um...,” he lowered to a whisper, “date.”

“Is this a fucking joke?” Izumi could practically feel the venom burning his throat. 

“No. It's not.” Hamada's shoulders slumped and something about him reminded Izumi of a sad puppy. “I like you.”

“Because I sucked you dick.”

“N-No! Not because of that!” Hamada yelped. “Because I have liked you. For a while and-- ah, hey.”

Izumi walked away.

“Wait up!”

He didn't.

The weird feeling was back and it was too much. 

“Izumi!” Hamada gasped as he ran after him. “Izumi, please!”

Izumi stopped dead in his tracks. It was his legs, he couldn't control them. Or maybe it was that he didn't want to, either way, he stopped. Something about how Hamada breathed out his name sent a weird warm shiver through him. 

Hamada wasn't expecting Izumi to stop and ran right into him. Izumi stumbled but caught himself enough to shove Hamada off. Whatever feeling had been there before had been replaced with anger. 

Izumi looked up at Hamada, he was too tall for his good. He opened his mouth to yell at him, but the words weren't there. Hurt laced Hamada's eyes and he might as well had been whimpering. 

Pathetic.

He was so pathetic. 

“I'm sorr--,” Hamada tried to get out a flustered apology. 

“Forget it. It's whatever.” Izumi waved him off before walking away again.

Hamada didn't follow.

“Hey.” Izumi looked back at him when he noticed. “You better get me two now.”

“R-Really!?” Hamada beamed, practically jumping as he closed the distance between them, at Izumi's side like an eager dog. 

“Yeah, jeez, calm down.” Izumi pushed at him, it was weak and a little playful. He turned away when he found himself a little embarrassed by it. 

After snocones, Hamada walked Izumi home. In the still hot, thick of the night, Izumi ended up going back on his word. Except that time, it was less of a joke and more something else. 

The taste of Hamada was still in Izumi's mouth when he got his first kiss. Another first experience on the list for Hamada. Izumi intended to cross off many more. 

His reputation changed to something much different by the end of the summer.


End file.
